


Pumpkin Patch Kids

by MiniatureGlitterSoul



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Autumn, Fluff, Halloween, I really don't know how else to tag this...?, fall - Freeform, kind of, pumpkins will be involved at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniatureGlitterSoul/pseuds/MiniatureGlitterSoul
Summary: Gravity Falls has always been a strange place--and Gravity Falls during the fall is no exception. When Dipper and Mabel make a weekend trip to visit their grunkles, they discover some interesting--and very adorable--anomalies.





	1. Chapter 1

Dipper stepped off the bus, catching his-- _Wendy’s_ \--hat just before the mid-October breeze blew it away. He and Mabel had a long weekend, and somehow she had convinced their parents to let them come up to Gravity Falls. Dipper had a feeling she had planned this before school started, because there was no other explanation for their grunkle standing at the bus stop with arms wide and a smile even wider.

“Hey, Pumpkin!” Grunkle Stan said as Mabel practically tackled him with her hug. She and Dipper had grown a few inches since they’d last seen their grunkles, and Dipper could tell that Stan was surprised.

“We’ve missed you so much!” Mabel said, her voice muffled by the sweater Grunkle Stan was wearing. It was green, with a big orange pumpkin smiling on the front of it. She had, of course, made it herself.

“We’ve missed you two, too, kiddo,” Grunkle Stan said, ruffling her hair. 

“Where’s Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked, stepping forward and giving Grunkle Stan a sturdy squeeze. 

“Oof!” A little puff of air left Grunkle Stan’s mouth, and Dipper felt a grin spread across his face. “You’ve bulked up a little, haven’t you, kiddo?” Grunkle Stan asked, pressing Wendy’s hat down on Dipper’s head.

Dipper laughed and pulled away. He pushed the hat back into place then looked around. 

“Ford’s pulling the car up--he had to park it about a mile back--there’s was this flock of crows just standing in the middle of the road. Wouldn’t fly away no matter how heavy he leaned on the horn.”

“Wait, so you walked a mile just to see us get off the bus?” Mable asked, her grin growing even wider.

“Wait, a flock of crows just standing in the middle of the road?” Dipper asked, his own grin spreading.

“Yep and yep. Crazy, right? Come on, we can start walking towards him.” Grunkle Stan grabbed one of the bags Mabel had dropped in her haste to hug him, then held his hand out for one of Dipper’s bags.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” Dipper said with a smile.

Grunkle Stan smiled back.

* * *

 

The crows were still standing in the middle of the road by the time Grunkle Stan’s old red car came into view. Grunkle Ford jumped out as soon as he saw them coming.

“Kids!” he called with a wave, and Dipper was impressed with how fast such an old man was able to sprint. He was even more surprised when Mabel sprang into the air and Ford caught her effortlessly.

“Hey! You promised I’d get the first hug!” Dipper said, dashing forward. 

“I told you that promises about hugs are very hard to keep!” Mabel said--her voice was again muffled by a sweater, though this one was dark blue with a smiling ghost on the front. Mabel had knit the ghost with glow-in-the-dark yarn.

“All right, come here,” Grunkle Ford said, bending down and holding out his other arm. 

Dipper wrapped his arms around his grunkle’s neck and suddenly felt his eyes stinging. He swallowed hard and hoped nobody would notice.

“So, uh, what’s up with all the crows?” Dipper asked, quickly turning away from the group.

“I’m not sure,” Grunkle Ford said, setting Mabel down. “I had heard about this sort of behavior years ago, but it was never anything I investigated. I imagine it has something to do with the seasons, as it’s only ever been reported during this time of year.”

“Maybe they’re having some kind of secret crow meeting!” Mabel said. “Like maybe there’s a whole secret crow society, and they’ve gathered together to elect a new crow president!”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Dipper said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“It could be,” she said with a shrug. “Crows are, like, freaky smart. If you’re nice to one, it’ll remember and be nice to you--but there was this study where people wore these masks and were mean to some crows, and the crows came back with a vengeance--and I’m pretty sure they brought friends.”

“So the moral of the story is not to mess with crows?” Grunkle Ford asked.

“The moral of the story is you never know who might help you out later, so it’s always good to be kind to everybody!” Mabel said, throwing her arms up in the air.

“You haven’t changed, have you, Pumpkin?” Grunkle Stan asked, ruffling her hair again.

“Nope!”

“Good.”

Mabel giggled, then crouched down and stared at one of the birds.

Dipper could have sworn the bird stared back.

“Excuse us, Mister Crow! Or Miss--I don’t really know how to tell if you’re a girl or a guy, soooo...?”

Mabel had hardly finished before the crow hopped to the side. 

“Whoa,” the word slipped out of Dipper’s mouth. 

“You’re like the crow whisperer or something!” Grunkle Stan said with a laugh.

“Huh...” Mabel said, tilting her head to the side. She stood up, then took a step forward. The next crow hopped out of the way. Another step, another crow hopped, and then another, and another...

“That’s amazing, Mabel!” Grunkle Ford said. He began to follow after Mabel, carrying the second suitcase she had dropped.

“When you said crows were smart, I didn’t think you meant  _that_  smart,” Grunkle Stan said, following behind.

“They probably just don’t want her to step on them,” Dipper said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“But then why wouldn’t they move for the car?” Grunkle Ford asked and glanced back at Dipper. “And not a single crow budged when I ran out to meet you all.”

“Hm...” Dipper frowned and squinted at the nearest crow. “Good point...”

“The crows must just like me best!” Mabel called back.

“Heh, I don’t blame ‘em, Pumpkin!” Grunkle Stan said with another laugh. 

When the four of them reached the car, they all turned back to look at the crows. Already the path they had walked through the flock had disappeared.

“Fascinating...” Grunkle Ford mumbled. 

“Any theories?” Dipper asked, glancing up at him.

“Not at the moment... I’ll have to do some more research...”

“Not right now!” Mabel cried. “I have more people to see! More hugs to give!”

“Of course, of course!” Grunkle Ford said. “Everybody in!”

“I’m driving this time,” Grunkle Stan said as Mabel and Dipper crawled into the backseat.

“You drive like a maniac, Stanley.”

“The kids are used to it!”

The car door closed behind Dipper, muffling the voices of the old men outside. He looked at his sister and the two of them shared a smile.

“It’s good to be back,” Mabel said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of hugging in this chapter.

“SOOS!” Mabel shrieked the moment she flew through the door of the Mystery Shack.

Soos’ head snapped towards the door and the broom in his hands fell to the floor. His jaw dropped and Dipper wondered for a moment if he was going to faint. But there wasn’t enough time to tell, because in the next moment Mabel had tackled him to the ground. Dipper flinched, not sure if the crack he had heard came from the floor or Soos’ back...

“Dudes!” Soos cried, holding Mabel above him. “It’s you!” He turned towards Dipper, looking suddenly confused. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have school and stuff?”

“We’ve got a long weekend!” Mabel said. Her arms were flapping all over the place, trying to hug him, but Soos didn’t seem to realize this as he kept her dangling above him.

“Mom and Dad said we could come visit!” Dipper added. He walked over to Soos and crouched down beside his head.

“That’s great, dudes! Aw, I missed you both so much!”

“Then let me hug you already!” Mabel cried.

“Oh! Right! Sorry, girl dude,” Soos said with a little smile. He wrapped Mabel up in a bear hug, one she gladly returned.

“Get in here, Dippingsauce,” she said, reaching out an arm and grabbing Dipper’s vest.

“Ack!” 

Mabel pulled him into the hug before he knew what was happening, and Soos wrapped an arm around him. Dipper had to admit, it was pretty cozy in this little group hug. A yawn crawled out of his mouth and he closed his eyes. The bus ride had made him pretty tired...maybe a nap would be nice...

“Hey! Outta the way! Customers coming in!” Grunkle Stan barked, kicking the bottom of Dipper’s shoe.

Dipper, Mabel, and Soos groaned in unison before shifting out of their hug.

“Really, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel said, frowning up at him. “You don’t even run the Shack anymore.”

“Says who?” Grunkle Stan asked--and when Dipper finally looked up at him, he almost gasped aloud. Somehow, in less than two minutes, the old man had changed out of his jeans and sweater and into his old black suit and fez. He was standing in front of a small mirror, adjusting his bowtie. 

Dipper turned to Soos, mouth open and full of questions, but Soos shrugged and laughed before any of the words came out.

“I let him run the place whenever he comes back into town,” he said. 

“It’s really more for our sanity than his,” Grunkle Ford said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If Stan’s not running the place, then he’s constantly complaining about the way Soos is doing it.”

“That’s because he’s trying to run the place into the ground,” Grunkle Stan muttered, but Dipper knew he didn’t mean it.

Soos glanced at Dipper and grinned. He didn’t buy it, either.

“Now, stop loafing on the floor and get back to work,” Grunkle Stan continued as he stepped behind the counter.

Dipper, Mabel, and Soos stood up just before the door opened--but it wasn’t customers who entered. 

It was Wendy.

“Wendy!” Dipper and Mabel cried together.

“Whoa!” Wendy said, stopping mid-step. “What the heck?” She spun to look at Grunkle Stan, who was smiling wide. 

Dipper and Mabel ran forward and, together, wrapped Wendy in a hug. 

“When did you two get here?” she asked, finally hugging them back.

“Just today!” Mabel said.

“Like, less than an hour ago,” Dipper added.

“No way,” Wendy said. She squeezed them a bit tighter, then let them go and glared at Grunkle Stan. “Thanks for letting me know they were coming,” she said, and Dipper could almost see the daggers she was shooting at him.

Grunkle Stan just laughed.

“Did you tell  _anybody_  we were coming?” Mabel asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Nope,” Grunkle Ford said. “Stanley thought it would be more fun to surprise everyone.”

“Hey, I wasn’t wrong,” Grunkle Stan said with a shrug.

Mabel gasped and clapped her hands against her face. 

“That means Candy and Grenda don’t know! And neither does Pacifica!”

“Whoa, don’t freak,” Wendy said, holding up her hands. She jingled a set of keys. “Guess who got her license?”

“Aw, sweet!” Dipper said.

“You mind, Mr. Pines?”

“Nah, they’ll be here a few days. I got time to share ‘em,” Grunkle Stan said, waving them out the door.

“YES!” Mabel cried, racing outside. 

Dipper and Wendy laughed then chased after her.

“Whoa!” Dipper said as he laid eyes on the old green truck parked outside. “Is that yours?”

“Yep--hand-me-down from one of dad’s work buddies. I had to fix it up a little, and it’s not much to look at, but it runs so smooth, man...” 

Mabel hopped into the backseat, flashing Dipper a grin. He felt his face grow hot and he looked back at the Shack for a moment, waiting for his blush to pass.

And then something caught his attention.

Perched on the roof of the Shack, just beside the wind vane, was a crow.

And it was staring at him.

Dipper felt his mouth drop open. “Mabel--” he began, but the truck suddenly came to life behind him and he jumped, spinning to face it. 

“You okay, bro?” Mabel asked, leaning out the window.

“Yeah, it’s just--” he paused, turning back to the Shack.

The crow was gone.

“Never mind...” he said.

Mabel glared softly at him.

“You know I don’t like it when you do that,” she muttered.

“Do what?” he asked, crawling into the passenger seat.

“The whole ‘Mabel there’s something weird going on but never mind I’m not gonna tell you about it ‘cuz I’m a dummy and that always works out well’ thing.”

“I do not sound like that,” Dipper said, buckling his seatbelt and turning to glare at her.

“Actually, that was pretty spot-on,” Wendy said with a smile. 

Dipper felt his face get hot again, but thankfully Wendy wasn’t looking. She was concentrating very hard on backing out. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting weird up in here.

Dipper and Mabel swapped school stories with Wendy all the way to Grenda’s house. They told her about Mystery-Meat-Wednesdays (which, surprisingly, were less terrifying than some of the mystery meals Stan had made for them), how they had left all the interesting stuff out of their “what I did over summer” papers, and the tussle Dipper had gotten into with one of the bigger boys. In turn, Wendy told them about how the gnomes had invaded the elementary school and held it as a fortress for an entire week, the straight A’s she was getting in both woodshed and calculus, and that the only reason she was getting B’s in social studies was because their new teacher would get so caught up in personal anecdotes that he would forget about the actual lesson.

“And then he grades everything super hard-–like, just because you were there and remember everything doesn’t mean modern teenagers are going to get every detail of the Gettysburg Address absolutely perfect.”

“Whoa, what is he, some kind of ghost?” Dipper asked with a laugh.

“Nah, he’s a centaur,” Wendy replied. 

“Wait, an actual centaur?” Dipper leaned towards her, automatically pulling the pen and notebook out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Nerd,” Mabel coughed from the backseat.

Dipper ignored her, but Wendy grinned.

“Yeah, man! His stories are cool, but, like, I kinda wanna actually learn the stuff that’s gonna be on the test, you know? I mean, I  _don’t_  wanna learn the stuff that’s gonna be on the test, but I want to  _pass the test-_ –you get what I’m saying?”

“Totally, totally-–so, does he walk to the school every day, or does somebody pick him up? And, like, what does he wear? I mean, do centaurs really wear clothes?”

“Well, the bottom half is all horse, so the only thing he wears down there is shoes.” 

Dipper glanced up from his writing and, slowly, turned to look at Wendy. She was biting her bottom lip, trying-–and failing-–to hold back a grin. 

“That was terrible,” he said. 

Wendy burst out into a laugh, and Mabel giggled from the backseat. 

“I know, dude! But you should have seen your face! Oh, man…” her voice trailed off into quiet laughter as she shook her head. “No, but seriously, he actually wears dress shirts and ties and stuff. Sometimes he wears a sweater, but sometimes it’s a suit. Really classy guy, and surprisingly fashionable.”

“And is he, like, attractive or anything?” Dipper mumbled. He immediately regretted the question and felt his face growing hot again.

“Nah, he’s kinda got a long face,” Wendy replied. She glanced over at him and winked.

Dipper quickly looked out the window.

They arrived at Grenda’s house a short while later, and Mabel practically launched herself out of the truck and up the porch steps. Dipper and Wendy hung back by the truck as Mabel rang the doorbell approximately a thousand times. The door opened and Dipper put his hands over his ears-–but it didn’t completely block the deafening roar Grenda let out.

“CANDY! PACIFICA! GET YOUR BUTTS OUT HERE!” Grenda called over her shoulder before she scooped Mabel up in a hug. “I missed you so MUCH!” she said.

There was a squeal and, suddenly, Candy shot out the door, jumping up and latching on to Mabel from the other side.

“You’re back! We missed you!” she said. She cast a quick smile at Dipper, and he smiled back.

“What was that about?” Wendy asked, glancing down at him with a smirk.

“What was what? It was nothing! It was nothing,” he said, looking at anything but Wendy. His eyes travelled over the trees around the yard, but they stopped on a crow.

A crow.

But this time it wasn’t looking at him.

It was watching Mabel.

“What…?” he mumbled, squinting at it. 

“What what?” Wendy asked.

“That crow-–when Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford came to get us from the bus stop, they couldn’t drive the car up because there were all kinds of crows in the road.”

“Oh, yeah! Dad tells me about stuff like that happening sometimes. And it always happens in, like, the same couple spots. One of them is around here, I think…”

“Well, Mabel asked one of the crows to move–”

“Heh, typical Mabel!”

“Yeah, well, it did.”

“What?” 

“The crow just…hopped out of the way. All of them did. They cleared a perfect path for her. And then there was a crow at the Shack–I saw it just before we left. And now there’s a crow over there-–”

“You know, crows aren’t  _too_  unusual. You might just be reading too much into it.”

“Maybe, but the crows wouldn’t move for anybody else–only Mabel. And at the Shack, I thought the crow was staring at me, but I think it might have been staring behind me-–at  _her_. And-–I mean-–just look at it, Wendy!”

Dipper threw his arm out in the crow’s direction and Wendy’s eyes followed the motion all the way to the bird. She frowned at it, then followed its gaze towards Mabel, who was now giving Pacifica a hug.

“Okay, so it’s kind of creepy…” Wendy said.

“It’s more than creepy, it’s–”

Just then, the crow cawed. Dipper looked from the bird to his sister. She had let Pacifica go and was now talking with the three other girls, but the look on her face had changed. She looked distracted–-preoccupied. 

The crow cawed again.

Mabel stopped mid-sentence. Her head turned. She locked eyes with the crow.

“Ca-CAW!” 

It turned and flew to another tree, this one at the end of the driveway. 

Mabel, without a word, followed.

“Mabel?” Pacifica called, then turned to look at Dipper with an expression of total confusion. 

“Mabel!” Dipper called to his sister and quickly ran to catch her. He took her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Mabel, what are you doing?” 

She turned to look at him, but her eyes were vacant.

“It’s getting late. It’s time to go home,” she said, but her voice was as lifeless as her eyes. 

Dipper set his jaw and shot a quick glare at the crow-–which was watching, Dipper thought, impatiently. 

“Fine,” he said, turning back to his sister. “But I’m coming with you.”

Mabel nodded then continued walking, Dipper holding her hand tightly. He wasn’t about to let some giant crow swoop in and take her away. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Wendy and the other girls following after them. Wendy gestured to Mabel, a look on her face that clearly asked what the heck was going on. Dipper shrugged in response. 

Mabel led him to the end of the driveway, and the crow flew to another tree down the road. Mabel turned and followed it diligently. Dipper was grateful there wasn’t any traffic to deal with on a backroad in a small town. The crow led them down the road, around a corner, and down a second road all the way to a large field. 

The crow perched on the rickety wooden fence, and Mabel stopped beside it. Dipper glanced out over the field and realized it was a pumpkin patch. The crow flew out towards the center of the field and landed on one of the larger pumpkins, near a couple of harvesters. The crow cawed and the people paused. Dipper gripped Mabel’s hand tighter, his other hand closing into a fist. The people turned to look at them, and Dipper swallowed hard. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took a creepier turn than I had been expecting--apologies for the delay.

For a moment, the harvesters didn’t move--they simply stared at the children. They wore large sunhats, which cast their faces in shadow, so Dipper couldn’t make out who, specifically, they were staring at. Finally, one of them waved. 

“No need to be so shy!” it called out in a high voice. “Come on in!”

Without any further beckoning, Mabel climbed over the fence.

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper said, catching her hand again before she slipped away. “What are you doing?”

“It’s getting late. It’s time to go home,” she replied. There was no inflection in her voice--no spark in her eyes. 

Dipper shivered. Whatever was speaking to him right now was not his sister.

He climbed over the fence, holding tightly to her hand, then walked with her towards the harvesters. He heard Wendy, Pacifica, Grenda, and Candy crunching the ground behind him and was glad they were following. He was glad to have the added support.

As they walked, he took a quick survey of the field. It looked like an ordinary pumpkin patch, though the abundance of crows was suspicious. Their black eyes watched him, seeming to squint with their own suspicions. He shivered again, despite the warm breeze.

“Howdy, Pumpkin!” the harvester spoke again as Mabel finally stopped. The high-pitched voice paired with the tiny figure led Dipper to believe it was a young woman, despite the fact that he still couldn’t see the face. If only she’d lift her hat... “It’s good to see you! And you’ve brought friends!” The harvester swept a gloved hand through the air, gesturing to Dipper and the girls who had followed him. “We love company! Isn’t that right, Pepo?”

The other harvester finally rose, then slowly looked from one end of the group to the other. “We sure do,” this voice said--decidedly lower and slower than the first. 

“What have you done to my sister?” Dipper asked. He’d dealt with enough weirdness to know not to drag this out--besides, he’d rather spend his time with his friends and family than a couple of creepy pumpkin harvesters. “And why did you call her ‘Pumpkin’?”

“Why, we ain’t done nothin’ to her, sugar!” the first harvester said. She put her hands on her hips, as if she were offended by the accusation. “And I called her ‘Pumpkin’ ‘cuz that’s her name, ain’t it?”

“No, her name is Mabel,” Dipper said.

“Hm...” The harvester turned to the crow sitting on the pumpkin beside her. 

The crow ruffled its feathers and glared at Dipper. It let out a loud caw. Dipper jumped.

“My friend here seems to think you are mistaken, child,” the harvester said. 

“She’s my sister, I think I’d know her name,” Dipper retorted.

“No need to snap, boy,” the second harvester said. He raised a hand and patted the air. “Plenty of people use different names at different times and in different places. It’s an easy enough mistake to make.”

“Her name is Mabel!” Dipper said, his grip on his sister’s hand tightening. 

“Who are you people anyway?” Wendy asked, stepping up beside Dipper.

The harvesters turned to her, and the slow one looked her up and down while the woman responded.

“Why, we’re the keepers of this here field--Argi and Pepo,” she said, motioning to herself and her partner in turn. “We watch over the little ones while they’re growing up, then help them on to bigger and better things when the time comes. You’re lucky you got here when you did--today marks the first day of the harvest, and we certainly wouldn’t want to have missed you.”

“Miss us? What are you talking about?” Dipper asked. He moved to take a step back, but he was still holding Mabel’s hand, and she was firmly rooted to the spot.

“The harvest, boy,” Pepo, the one with the deep voice, said. “We wouldn’t want Pumpkin here to get overlooked during the harvest.”

“That’s right,” Argi said with a nod. “If you’re late for the harvest, then all kinds of terrible things can happen.” As she spoke, Argi drew a knife from the front pocket of her overalls. It glinted in the sunlight.

“Okay, this has taken a sharp turn from just ‘weird’ to straight-up ‘creepy’,” Wendy said, putting up her hands. 

“Well, I don’t really know what ya’ll were expectin’,” Argi said, staring down at her knife. She rubbed her gloved thumb over the blade. “Seein’ as ya’ll have been hangin’ around with one of our own for so long.” She glanced up suddenly, and her hat slid back, finally removing the shadow from her face. 

Dipper gasped. Grenda screamed. Wendy and Pacifica both shouted things that, frankly, surprised Dipper. 

Mabel didn’t flinch.

Argi did not have a face. Well, not in the traditional sense of having a face. Because she didn’t have a head in the traditional sense. Dipper shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts.

Argi was a pumpkin.

She had triangle eyes and a triangle nose, and a wide open mouth--all of which were faintly glowing. Pepo tilted his head up and his face was basically the same, though his eyes and nose were round. 

“You’re jack-o-lanterns,” Dipper said, looking between the two.

“You best watch your mouth, boy,” Pepo said, his gloved hand curling into a fist. “Jack-O-Lanterns are a pale imitation, stupidly carved by clumsy hands. We are the originators--the inspiration behind such crude symbols.”

“Okay...” Wendy said, obviously as confused as Dipper.

“Historically, jack-o-lanterns were carved to ward of evil spirits or the wandering souls of the dead,” Candy chimed in from behind them. “They have been around for centuries.”

“Yes,” Argi said, and her bright smile grew. “But we’ve been around longer.”

Suddenly, the vines trailing on the ground all around them began to shift, snaking their way around the group. Before he knew what was happening, Dipper’s legs were completely entangled in pumpkin vines. From the shouts the others were giving, it seemed they were all in the same predicament.

Except for Mabel.

The entire time, she hadn’t moved. Dipper wasn’t sure she had even blinked. And now, as they all struggled and screamed, Mabel was the only one who hadn’t been touched. She was also--Dipper knew  _not_  coincidentally--the only one who was under some kind of freaky spell. But how had they done it? And for what purpose?

“Listen, you creepy pumpkin-people,” Dipper yelled, yanking at the vines around his ankles. “My sister and I fought a literal chaos demon--we survived a freaking apocalypse! Do you honestly think a few vines are going to stop us?”

“No, I reckon not,” Argi said. “But they might.”

Dipper looked up. For a moment, both his hands and his brain stopped working.

The pumpkin patch had come to life.

“Whoa--mayday, mayday!” Wendy cried. She had been using her axe on the vines at her feet, and she now gripped it close to her chest with two hands.

All around them, pumpkins had stood up--their vines holding them up like legs, some with two, some with four, and some with eight. They were slowly creeping, crawling, and stumbling forward.

“What do you even want Mabel for?” Pacifica cried. “It’s not like she’s that pretty!”

“HEY, MABEL IS A BEAUTIFUL GODDESS.”

“Not helping, Grenda!”

“Silence!” Argi screamed. 

“Silence!” Mabel echoed.

They all stopped. 

Argi and Dipper both turned to stare at Mabel. Dipper realized now that he had let go of her hand, and it hung limply at her side. Her eyes were still vacant and her face expressionless, but Argi seemed to have taken a new interest in her--a concerned interest.

“What is it, child?” the pumpkin-woman spoke in a voice hardly above a whisper. She stepped forward and reached a gloved hand towards Mabel’s face.

“Don’t touch her,” Dipper snapped. 

Argi stopped and turned to him. Her triangle eyes had turned on their sides, making a vicious glare.

“Silence,” Mabel droned. “Mother is coming.”

Dipper felt the blood drain from his face. 

“Mother?” he repeated, his mouth dry.

Argi and Pepo removed their hats. The pumpkin army stopped. The field grew horribly, eerily silent--even the crows looked hesitant and expectant.

Then, there came a rustling. It was soft at first, but grew louder. Dipper couldn’t tell from whence it came, as it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. It grew louder and louder and the breeze grew in tandem until the rustling was a roar and the breeze felt like a hurricane. 

“Oh my gosh...” Pacifica said. 

A shadow fell over them. Dipper looked up. His jaw dropped open and he had to steady himself by holding onto Wendy. He didn’t even blush as he held onto her elbow.

Above them was a giant crow.


	5. Chapter 5

“Holy crow--” Wendy said.

Dipper wondered if it was an expression or if he should be taking it literally.

There was a rush of wind as, gently, the crow touched down. It seemed even larger now that it was perched behind the pumpkin people--Argi and Pepo. Gold glistened around its neck, and something glowed between its eyes. It stared down at them all, piercing Dipper with a steely gaze, before it focussed on Mabel.

“Hello, child,” the crow spoke--its voice was unearthly, unnatural.

“Hello, mother,” Mabel intoned.

“Mabel, that’s a crow,” Dipper said, not taking his eyes off the bird.

The crow turned to him sharply. Its black eyes seemed to be glaring.

“The gray ones called her ‘Pumpkin,’” Argi said. “But he says her name is Mabel.”

“Because it is!” Dipper said. He gripped Mabel’s hand tightly.

“Calm thyself, boy,” the crow spoke again.

Dipper shivered.

“I know her name, and I know her heart--she is one of us, but separate from the field.”

“Come again?” Wendy said.

“The children of this field--my children--are like her. Born by magic, nurtured by creativity, matured by trial. On the inside, she appears as one of them. Please forgive our mistake.”

“But what did you do to her? What were you _going_ to do to her?” Dipper asked. He wasn’t quite ready to accept apologies yet.

“We simply called her home for the harvest--the children of the field often find themselves lost during harvest time, which is why my messengers flock to find them,” the crow replied.

“Well, that explains this morning,” Dipper said. “But what, exactly, is the harvest?”

The crow turned and looked over the field.

“When the children are ready,” it began, “they are given voices of their own. They no longer simply repeat what they hear, as the crows do--and then the gates are opened and they are encouraged to go wherever they like and do whatever they wish. Some go, some stay, but what they do with their time is no longer our concern. That is why your sister--Mabel-Pumpkin--is different. She has a voice already. She heard mine and was enchanted, as the children are, but her voice is strong. All this time that I have been talking to you, she has been speaking with me. But she would like to speak with you now,” the crow nodded in Mabel’s direction and, suddenly, Mabel’s eyes sparkled again. She turned to him, a wide smile on her face.

“Dipper! The gourd with a human face and emotions!” she said, gripping his hand in both of hers. “It came from here! It got lost before the harvest, though, so it never got it’s own voice--poor little guy...” she frowned, looking down at the ground.

The crow made a sound that Dipper could only think was a chuckle.

“Dear Mabel-Pumpkin,” it said, “I offer my sincerest apologies for this mistake, and on behalf of my children I apologize for the trouble we inflicted on your friends.”

“We are sorry,” Argi said. “We were just trying to do our job is all.”

“Rightly sorry, though,” Pepo nodded.

“Apology accepted!” Mabel cried.

“Um, apology not accepted, these stupid gourds ruined my best boots!” Pacifica cried behind them.

The crow fixed her with a hard glare.

“I mean, apology accepted--I didn’t like these boots anyway.”

“As a show of our deepest respect and remorse, would you care to help with the harvest?” the crow asked.

“Uhh--” Dipper began, but Mabel spun him around, looped an arm over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear.

“Dipper, think about it--how many times do you get to help sentient pumpkins find their way in the world?”

He sighed.

“Fine, we’ll help with their creepy pumpkin harvest,” he said.

Mabel squealed, and he couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

 

Harvesting the pumpkins was actually a highly satisfying experience, Dipper discovered. It was more than just freeing the pumpkins from the vines that held them to the ground--it was encouraging them, reassuring them, and giving them vital life advice about how to treat a lady right. The pumpkins listened intently, hanging on every word that was spoken to them. Their carved faces and glowing eyes never stopped unsettling Dipper, but as he looked around the field and saw Mabel and Pacifica teaching a group of pumpkins about friendship--Candy and Grenda showing one how to do a handstand with its vine-arms--and Wendy demonstrating how to swing an axe with the least effort while inflicting the most damage--he couldn’t help but think that this was the best way to spend their time back in Gravity Falls.

After all, he really had missed the weirdness of this place.

The sun was setting over the forest that bordered the field when the pumpkins, walking shakily on their new vine bodies, assembled around Argi, Pepo, and the giant crow.

“My children,” the crow began in its eerie voice, “you have grown well this season, and you have had the special privilege of learning from those who live beyond the field.”

For some reason or another, Dipper felt his face get warm. Mable elbowed him gently in the arm and, in the light of the setting sun, he could see that she was blushing, too.

“And now, my dears, we send you out into the world--where you go and what you do is up to you, and I hope all you have learned here will lead you on the right paths.” The crow looked up to the sky and stretched out its massive wings.

Suddenly, the sun shone directly in Dipper’s face, and he had to shield his eyes--but before the crow flapped its wings and nearly blew the entire group off their feet, he could have sworn it wasn’t the sun that was so bright...

When he finally looked again, his jaw dropped. The pumpkins were all dressed--in sweaters, plaid shirts, blue jeans, skirts and leggings, beanies, boots--but the most amazing thing was their faces.

They looked almost-- _almost_ \--like people.

The skin tone was a bit too orange, like they’d all spent too much time in a tanning booth, and their eyes still glowed faintly, but smiling back at him was a group that, without close inspection, could perfectly pass as...human.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“They’re beautiful,” Mabel whispered.

“This is legit the most terrifying thing I have ever witnessed,” Wendy mumbled. “And I lived through the freaking _apocalypse_.”

“Go, my children,” the crow boomed.

The gate of the fence flew open. The pumpkin-people all turned to look at it, then, slowly, a few started out--followed by a few more--until all of them had wandered out and disappeared into the growing dusk.

“And now,” the crow said, its voice soft and sending shivers down Dipper’s spine, “you children must go as well. We thank you for your assistance, and we look forward to your help with the next harvest.” The crow lowered its head in a stately bow.

“And sorry again for the mix-up,” Argi said, looping an arm around the crow’s neck. “Ya’ll sure are a good group--almost good enough to be pumpkins yourselves!”

Dipper was not sure this was a compliment.

But with that, Argi and Pepo climbed up on the crow’s back--and, with a shimmer and a gust of wind that actually did knock everyone to the ground, the crow took off. With a mighty caw, the other crows that were gathered in and around the field took to the sky. Dipper watched as the crows flew off above the trees, finally fading away into the dark sky above. He stared for a moment longer, feeling more entranced now that they had left.

“That was amazing!” Mabel suddenly exclaimed.

Everyone laughed.

“Freaky, but, yeah,” Wendy began, standing up, “amazing.”

“I mean, my entire outfit is ruined, but it was...” Pacifica paused. “Ugh, I can’t think of a word other than amazing,” she finally grumbled.

“Incredible? Wonderful? Unbelievable--or perhaps prodigious?” Candy said.

“OH, I like ‘prodigious’!” Grenda shouted.

Dipper laughed as he got to his feet. He brushed himself off and looked around. The field was now thoroughly dark.

“We should probably get back,” he said.

“Yeah--hang on--” Wendy pulled out her phone and used it as a flashlight, illuminating their way to the gate.

The group walked slowly down the road, talking softly to each other--catching up on school and life and rehashing the events of the day. Mabel’s version, Dipper noted with mild amusement, was entirely different from his own.

“I’m so excited to tell Grunkle Ford that we know where his weird gourd came from!” she said--but managed to keep her excitement hushed.

“Yeah, he’ll be pretty--” Dipper stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen a faint light. He turned and, sure enough, there were two little lights in the woods. And then, a little further on, two more--and two more--and two more stretching on and on down the road.

Lighting the way home.

“He’ll be pretty what?” Mabel prompted, seeming not to notice the lights.

“Surprised,” Dipper finished with a smile. “He’ll be pretty surprised.”


End file.
